


Pregnant Pause

by ZoeSong



Category: C.B. Strike (TV), Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:59:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeSong/pseuds/ZoeSong
Summary: Robin is feeling funny in the morning.





	Pregnant Pause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LulaIsAKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/gifts).



> Many, many thanks to [LulaIsAKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten/) for her patient beta support! And for the inspiration drawn from her story, [The Test.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568675/chapters/33664410)

~~

Strike was already sitting at his desk sorting through some client notes when Robin slipped into the office. That wasn’t like her – she was usually the one to be first up, first in the office, first at her desk already checking email by the time he was down. 

Today she had groaned when the alarm had gone off and told him he could use the loo first – a rare occurrence. But she had been up very late working on a case, so he had left her in bed, and she was just getting up when he came out dressed and ready to grab some breakfast and head down to the office. He had offered to make her tea and toast, but she waved him off, saying she would be along shortly. 

Now she was shuffling around – not the usual brisk clicking of the heels of her shoes that he was used to. She went straight to her desk with just a mumbled greeting, and he supposed she was anxious to make up for lost time. He got up to go reassure her that there was no rush – even after all this time together as both partners and a couple she was overly conscientious.

Just as he came out of his office, Robin suddenly bolted across the doorway and out onto the landing. Strike heard the door to the loo shut sharply.

He waited in the doorway for her, grimacing at the telltale sound of retching coming from the loo. She nearly bumped into him when she came in, and he steadied her with his hand.

Startled, her voice quavered a little. “Sorry! Did you need me?” 

“No, I just wanted to see if you were all right. Did you lose your breakfast?” His eyes were full of concern. 

She looked embarrassed. “Yeah, not that there was much to lose – I didn’t feel like eating.” 

“Come on, sit down. I’ll get you a cup of tea and a biscuit.”

“I’m not sure if there are any left.” 

Strike had a pang of guilt over that – he was the one who usually gobbled up all the biscuits during tea breaks. Fortunately, he found a couple left and brought them to her with a mug of tea. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” Robin sipped the tea and nibbled at a biscuit. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you go back to bed? I can handle things down here.”

“I have those interview notes to type. I should really get those done while they are fresh in my mind.”

“Right, then, I’ll leave you to it.” He knew she wouldn’t want him fussing over her, so giving her one more glance, and vowing to check on her again in a few minutes, he went back into his office.

Robin sat there for another few minutes, wondering what could have made her feel so miserable. She had no fever, and the biscuits sat reasonably well in her stomach, but the undercurrent of nausea continued. Running through her head what she’d eaten the night before, she found no answer.

Strike was just finishing reading a case file when he heard Robin give a little gasp. As he rose from his desk, he could hear her taking deep breaths as if she was trying to stave off another wave of sickness again.

“Cormoran.” Her voice sounded tentative.

“Just coming.” He came out of his office to see her looking even more pale than before. “No better?”

Robin shook her head slowly. “Maybe a bit. But I think I know what this could be.” She seemed to be dreading telling him whatever it was that it could be.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She wrung her hands, very nearly spilling her tea, which was perched precariously on her lap. “I’m late.”

He looked at her blankly, then suddenly connected the word to her nausea and vomiting. “Oh. Right. Late.” 

“I know I’m on the pill, but remember that night when we got back from a very late stake-out? And we were so knackered that we just fell into bed?"

He stood there thunderstruck. 

Robin gulped and continued. “We didn’t even go in and brush our teeth and…I forgot to take my pill.” Her eyes flickered up to Strike, but he remained silent, no acknowledgement. So she stumbled blindly on. “I didn’t remember it until the next night. But the instructions always say that if you take two when you remember, it’s fine, so I didn’t think we really needed any…other protection…since I remembered it so soon after. At least, that’s what I thought.”

Strike nodded vaguely, and Robin was starting to feel desperate. _I’m no better than Charlotte, letting this happen and springing this on him – it must seem like I’m trying to trap him._

“I had intended to tell you – to say that we should use back up just in case, but I must have forgotten. And I know it’s all too soon – just when we want to expand the agency and maybe find another office.” She sniffed loudly. “And–”

“Robin.” Strike suddenly came to his senses and found his voice. “It’s okay. It caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I know, I know – I didn’t mean for this happen…I’m sorry.”

“Robin, do you think I blame _you_?” 

She looked at him helplessly. “Don’t you?”

“If you _are_ pregnant, it wasn’t an immaculate conception. I was there too.” He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. “And it’s as much my responsibility to think about birth control as it is yours.”

She nodded, dabbing at her eyes, and sniffling again. “But…”

“But let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t even know for sure that’s what it is, do we?” 

Robin shook her head.

“Right, so I’ll nip down to the chemist and pick up one of those tests – and some more biscuits, shall I? Then we’ll see what’s what.”

“I could go – I’m not that ill.”

“No, you just rest here – I need a fag anyway.” 

He squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead, caught up his coat, and was off.

Robin sat staring at the floor with the overwhelming sense that despite his reassuring words, he had needed to get out of there – to escape her. A sob slipped out. _I’ve driven him away._

~~

Strike _had_ needed to get out of there – he desperately needed to think. And the last thing he wanted was for Robin to see whatever expressions would cross his face when he did that. He was already angry at himself for how he’d reacted initially – he’d never meant for her to feel guilt or blame. He was deeply troubled that she was miserable when under other circumstances she would likely be delighted about such a development.

And he couldn’t help but think of Charlotte and wonder whether that had all been a ploy to try to trap him in the relationship. And then he berated himself for making any comparisons between Charlotte and Robin – Robin wasn’t the least bit like Charlotte. 

And what about his avowed resistance to having children? He still wasn’t crazy about the idea, but with Robin it might be different. He’d enjoyed going with her to visit her family up in Masham at Christmas – he had felt warmly welcomed and accepted. It had made him think differently about family. For him, a sister had meant an ally and someone to worry about when their mum brought questionable men home. For Robin family meant people she could rely on who loved and cared for her. 

So what were their choices in this situation? If it turned out she wasn’t pregnant, then they could breathe a sigh of relief, plan to be more careful in the future – and postpone making difficult choices. But if she was pregnant? Strike pondered those choices – and after he’d run the alternatives though his mind, he realized that there was no difficult decision at all. By the time he arrived at the chemist, he’d reached a firm resolution. 

Strike searched for the test kit that Robin had indicated, then headed back to the office, stopping into the corner shop for a packet of biscuits on the way.

~~

Robin meanwhile, sat on the sofa trying to keep her tea and biscuits down, worrying about what this would all mean – for them, for their agency, for the future. _What does he really think? Is he just putting on a brave face? Does he hope that the test will be negative? Do I?_ She knew that she did want kids some day, but at the moment it just seemed like an intrusion on what had been going so well. And how would they handle a child when they were deep into a difficult case?

She heard Strike’s footsteps plodding up the stairs. He fumbled with the door, then came in and set the two items on the desk.

“Here we go. Want a biscuit first? I got the ones you like best.” 

Robin gave him a weak smile and nodded. She opened the biscuits and nibbled one slowly as Strike tackled the pregnancy test box. He laid out the test and unfolded the instructions.

“Right, so it says here to–”

“I know what to do.”

He looked up in surprise. “You’ve done one of these before?”

“Not me – Ilsa. I was with her for it more than once.” 

“Ah.” He read over the instructions anyway as she finished the biscuit. “Well, then, off you go.” He handed her the stick, then took her other hand to help her up.

“Thanks. Wish me luck.” She shook her head at the last phrase wondering what made her say something so silly, and headed off to the loo.

Strike looked after her with sympathy. 

Robin returned a few minutes later with the stick wrapped in a paper towel. She placed the slim bundle carefully on the edge of her desk as if it was a ticking time bomb, then sat down on the sofa again. “Now we wait.”

Strike pulled the desk chair around and sat across from her. “Okay, two minutes to show results, window of five minutes to read it.” He set the timer on his phone.

Robin sighed, her hands tightening again in her lap.

Strike took her hands in his. “Robin, listen. Whatever it says, it’s going to be okay.”

“But it’s so soon – we’re still developing the agency….”

“We’ll work around it.”

“And...and I know you don’t really want children....”

Strike sighed. “It’s true that I’ve always thought that. But I also know that you _do_ want children. And I love you, so…I want what you want.”

Robin’s face crumpled like a child’s and tears streamed down her face.

Strike repeated, “Whatever it says, it will be fine. We’ll work it out. Okay?” He looked into her eyes and held her hands tightly. 

She nodded at him tearfully, slipping one hand free to dab at her face. He moved over to sit on the sofa with her while they waited. He put his arm around her and squeezed her gently. 

The phone alarm went off, startling them both. 

“Christ, that’s loud. Sorry.” Strike hurried to turn it off. Squeezing her again, he reached over to the desk to retrieve the test. 

“I can’t look – you look.” Robin turned her head.

Strike chuckled to himself. “Drum roll, please….” He opened the paper towel and looked. 

When he didn’t say anything, Robin got worried. “Cormoran?” When she turned to him, he had a grin on his face.

“It’s all right, Robin.”

Her face shone with relief. “Oh!” And she hugged him tightly. 

As she pulled away, she caught sight of the test in his hand. There were two little pink lines, though one was fainter than the other.

“Wait, Cormoran – that’s positive. It means I’m pregnant.”

He was still grinning. “I know it does. And it’s all right.”

“It is? But the timing, all our plans...”

“I meant what I said before. We’ll work things out.”

“We hardly have enough room in the flat now. How on earth can we manage with a baby?”

“Well, we were talking about finding another office, so we’ll have to look for a flat too. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find them both close to each other.”

“We’ll need something with a washing machine and room for a nursery.” Robin shook her head. “It’s all just too much!”

Strike put his arm around her. “Robin, I can’t believe _you’re_ the one who is panicking. Women usually seem to love the idea of having a baby.”

She glanced at him. “And why aren’t _you_ panicking? You seem so calm about it.”

“I was thinking, this is probably how it was going to have to happen anyway, you know, the way we are, always immersed in cases. We’d be so busy that we’d never get around to it. I’m not getting any younger. If I’m going to be a dad, it had best be before I’m old and grey.” He grinned at her, his eyes crinkling.

Robin gave a little laughing sob and nodded, then stopped and shook her head slowly. “But we’re not even…” She broke off, realizing that what she was going to say seemed to be too soon as well.

“Married? Yeah, we’ll have to do something about that.” He smiled again at her, his eyes alight. “Robin, will you marry me?”

She gasped. “Just like that?” She looked shocked, not elated.

He was still smiling, his eyes dancing. “Just like that. Not very romantic, but I don’t think I can do the down-on-one-knee thing.”

Robin gave another tearful laugh. She’d never told him about Matthew’s proposal. She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to. It’s perfect. But are you sure? It’s a big decision to make all of sudden.”

“It is. And it may have happened much sooner than we’d have liked. But when I was walking down to the chemist, thinking about what alternatives we had, it all came circling around back to this.”

“But it will change everything.”

“Yes, it will. But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing – I was afraid that us getting together was going to change everything – and it has. But it’s been the best thing that could have happened to me.” He tightened his arm around her. “So this is exactly the right decision.”

“Oh, Cormoran.” She could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Then, yes.” She blinked the tears out of her eyes and smiled tremulously. “Yes.”

Strike gathered her into his arms, kissed her tenderly, and held her tightly. They sat there, holding each other for a few minutes, engrossed in each other and the promise of their future together.

Then Robin stirred suddenly, and said, “Oh, there’s so much to do! I’d better get started looking for offices and flats.” Robin was back to her bubbly self, leaping into action, her nausea forgotten. She got to her feet and began to set her desk to rights. 

Strike just sat there on the sofa grinning and watching her with amazement.

Robin caught sight of him. “What are you smiling at?”

“You.”

Robin looked at him quizzically.

“I like seeing you happy.”

She grinned back at him. “You make me happy.” Then she turned back to her computer and got to work.

Strike watched as his partner – and the love of his life – started tapping away as if their lives depended on it. 

~~

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t help thinking of Jackson Browne’s song “Ready or Not” while writing this. The story isn’t quite the same, but a few little details are similar. Lyrics are [ here](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jacksonbrowne/readyornot.html) and a recording is [ here. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpQCl53K6EQ)
> 
> Also, the concept of the "Immaculate Conception" is often used mistakenly to refer to the virgin birth of Jesus. But it actually refers to the birth of the Virgin Mary without Original Sin. But since you often hear the expression used the way Strike does, I went ahead and used it that way.


End file.
